And I'll surely go, if it were to rain cats, dogs, and pitchforks!" She stood drearily at the drawing-room window, looking forlornly out at the empty street.
The eerie twilight was falling, rain and wind rising and falling with it, the street lamps twinkling ghostily through the murky gloaming, the pavement black and shining.

Belated pedestrians hurried along with bowed heads and uplifted umbrellas, the stages rattled past in a ceaseless stream, full to overflowing.

The rainy night was settling down, the storm increasing as the darkness came on.

Mollie surveyed all this disconsolately enough.
"I don't mind a ducking," she murmured, plaintively, "and I never take cold; but I don't want that man to see me looking like a drowned rat.
Oh, if it should turn out to be Hugh--dear, dear Hugh!" Her face lighted rapturously at the thought.

"I never knew how much I loved him until I lost him.